


never just a wave

by thisissirius



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, M/M, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Pre-Slash, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: Buck’s hand is clenching and unfurling against his knee, like he’s not conscious of it, and Eddie reaches across the center console, taking Buck’s hand in his own. He only means to stop the movement in the corner of his eye, but Buck jerks, head snapping up, and he wrenches his hand out from under Eddie’s, breath coming in quick gasps.“Easy,” Eddie says, guilt welling in his chest, trying to keep his attention on the road and on Buck. “I’m sorry.”Buck’s voice cracks when he says, “No, I’m sorry.”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 37
Kudos: 644
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	never just a wave

**Author's Note:**

> my first foray into this fandom but the tsunami wouldn't let me go. 
> 
> for maz and nids, who haven't had fic in a fandom i've written in for a long time ;)

Eddie doesn’t even think about leaving Buck behind. 

The base part of him, the parent, wants to take Christopher home and stay there, satisfying the pounding of his heart at the knowledge of how close he came to losing his son. There’s another part of him, one he can barely acknowledge let alone name, that watches Buck crumple and desperately wants to make it better. Any anger he felt at Buck losing his son falls with him. 

Christopher shifts in his arms. “Is Buck okay?”

Eddie slides Christopher’s glasses back on his face. “Yeah, buddy, he’s right there.”

“-Running on adrenaline alone,” Hen is saying as he approaches, and something lurches painfully in Eddie’s chest. “I think you should rest here until someone can take you home.”

“No,” Bucky says, loud even amidst the noise. 

“I’ll take him,” Eddie says, before he can really think about it. It’s Buck’s panic, he realizes, something wild around the eyes, that he can’t ignore. “If that’s alright, Cap. I wanna get Christopher home and make sure he’s okay.”

Bobby doesn’t even hesitate. “Go. And you,” he says, turning to Buck, “Take your time.”

A shadow flickers across Buck’s face and Eddie can see the argument that’s about to happen, so he says, “Christopher, how about we take Buck home with us, huh?”

It’s underhanded and Eddie knows it, using Christopher against Buck. He knows, he _knows_ , how Buck’s gotta be feeling about the kid, but he doesn’t give a shit. His emotions are wrung out and he cares too much about Buck to watch him burn a bridge. 

Buck stares at him, relief and exhaustion chasing anger across his face, but it’s not until Christopher agrees that he acquiesces with a nod. “Not sure I can, uh,” he says, looking embarrassed. “Stand up.”

“I’ll grab you a ride,” Hen says, brushing a hand over the back of Buck’s neck. “Then we’ll help you to the car.”

Buck gives her a quick flash of a smile, nowhere near as brilliant as it could be, and as exhausted as Eddie is, he knows he’s got more work ahead of him. The rage he rarely acknowledges stirring in his chest will have to channel into something more productive this evening. 

By the time Hen finds them a ride, both Christopher and Buck are flagging, and Eddie’s not sure he’s any better. Getting Christopher settled, Eddie watches as Hen helps Buck into the car. Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s been through, but he knows Buck’s gotta be hurting. 

“You can drop me off at mine,” Buck says. 

“No way.”

“Eddie,” Buck says tiredly. 

“No,” Eddie says again, giving Buck a hard look. 

Buck doesn’t argue, resting his forehead against the passenger side window. It’s yet more proof that he’s not okay, and Eddie grits his teeth, focuses on the road. He’s wound tight, so much anger, fear, and concern rushing his body, and he swallows down the urge to say something, anything, to break the quiet in the car. Christopher’s almost asleep in the back, chin dropping to his chest before he jerks up again. 

“You all right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Christopher says, smiling. How he can still smile, Eddie doesn’t know. He’s grateful for it, no matter what. 

Buck’s hand is clenching and unfurling against his knee, like he’s not conscious of it, and Eddie reaches across the center console, taking Buck’s hand in his own. He only means to stop the movement in the corner of his eye, but Buck jerks, head snapping up, and he wrenches his hand out from under Eddie’s, breath coming in quick gasps. 

“Easy,” Eddie says, guilt welling in his chest, trying to keep his attention on the road and on Buck. “I’m sorry.”

Buck’s voice cracks when he says, “No, I’m sorry.”

Eddie throws a quick glance at Buck, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “You’ve got nothing to feel sorry for.”

Huffing a laugh, Buck stares back out of the window. Eddie doesn’t know what he’s thinking, hates that he can’t read him, and he tightens his grip on the wheel. He wants to be home so they can get something close to normal.

Or as normal as they ever get. 

  
  
  


“We’re going straight to bed, buddy,” Eddie says, hitching Christopher better in his arms. He’s glad he’s got spare crutches in the house. He presses a kiss to the top of Christopher’s head, way too grateful to have him safe and home. It’s easy to carry him into the house, listen to Christopher’s breathing and know that his son is alive. 

“Is Buck coming?” Christopher asks, and Eddie startles, staring back to the car. Buck’s not moved from the passenger seat. _Fuck_. 

“I’ll come back for him.” 

Christopher nods, as if that’s okay, and he curls a hand around Eddie’s shirt. “He saved me.”

Eddie falters but picks the pace back up as he unlocks the door, flicking on the hall light. “Yeah?”

“We played I-Spy.” Christopher grins. 

Eddie doesn’t know who to thank for his boy being so upbeat that even a tsunami doesn’t really get him down. There’s someone else to thank for Christopher being here, right now. He gets Christopher settled on the couch, brushes his hair back from his head. “You all right here while I get Buck?”

Christopher nods, sinks down into the cushions, and Eddie turns on his heel, heart skipping a beat when he sees Buck _still_ hasn’t moved. _Buck_.

When he knocks on the passenger window, Buck jerks away from it, blinking fast, and Eddie gets the door open. 

“You with me?”

Buck frowns, narrowing his eyes as he looks at Eddie, over Eddie’s shoulder at the house, and then back to his lap. “What?”

“Come on,” Eddie says quietly, getting an arm under Buck’s and helps him out of the car. Buck’s knees almost immediately start to buckle and Eddie grunts, tired bones screaming as he takes Buck’s weight. Not much longer and he can sink into his own bed, but Buck’s gotta come first. “You with me now?”

It takes Buck a while to answer, which Eddie takes to mean no. “M’fine.”

“Not what I asked,” Eddie says, helping Buck into the hall and shutting the door behind him. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”

Buck’s eyes latch onto Christopher as soon as he’s in the room, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with the bleak expression on Buck’s face. He wants to know what happened to them, but he also doesn’t, isn’t sure he can handle hearing how close they came to - well, how close they came. 

“Hey Buck,” Christopher says.

“Chris,” Buck starts, breath hitching as he drops onto the couch. He rests a hand against Christopher’s face, who smiles at him, only a touch tired. Eddie thinks Buck’s gonna cry, and he knows he absolutely cannot deal with that right now. 

“I’m gonna get Christopher upstairs,” Eddie says, and Buck snaps his hand back, rests it in his lap. Frowning, Eddie waits for the nod before taking Christopher back in his arms. “You wanna wash up?”

“M’fine,” Buck says again. 

“Night, Buck,” Christopher says. “See you in the morning.”

“Yeah, you will,” Buck assures him, managing a smile that’s almost as genuine as it normally is. Eddie’s gonna stop being grateful for his son at some point in his life, but he’s not sure he actually wants that at all. It takes longer than Eddie likes for him to get Christopher washed, into clean and warm pajamas, and comfortable in bed. He pulls up the comforter and brushes a hand through Christopher’s hair. “You need me, yell, okay?”

“I will,” Christopher says. “Take care of Buck.” Eddie opens his mouth to say he will when Christopher keeps talking. “He saved me. He saved lots of people. Said he didn’t wanna let you down.”

Eddie’s pulse pounds beneath his skin and he’s suddenly desperate to get back downstairs which, no, he’s gonna say goodnight to his _son_. He leans in, kisses Christopher’s forehead. “Love you, buddy.”

“Love you,” Christopher replies, shuffling further beneath the covers. 

Eddie takes his time shutting the door, gaze lingering on Christopher. He’s safe. He’s _home._

  
  
  


Buck’s half-asleep when he gets back downstairs. It’s an uncomfortable position; he’s slipped down the cushions, neck titled awkwardly against the back of the couch, and his fingers are twitching. Eddie wants to get him clean, shove him in warm clothes and make sure he’s rested, which just weirds him out because Buck’s not Christopher and Eddie doesn’t need to take care of him. He shakes his head, retreats to the kitchen because it seems safer to be in there. He leans against the counter, brushing his hands over his face. He wants to get changed himself, sleep for a week and pretend that the tsunami is just a terrible dream. 

“I can’t do this,” he mutters, peering back into the living room. Buck’s not moved. Buck’s his best friend, and Eddie misses him, he does, but now that he’s got time to think, the fact that Christopher was in the middle of a tsunami? It’s all he can think about. What the hell was Buck thinking? Why didn’t he go to the movies? Why didn’t he choose somewhere inland?

It’s not fair. Buck couldn't have known, _didn’t_ know, and Eddie needs to snap the hell out of it. He’s just scared and he won’t take that out on Buck. Not when Buck’s so obviously exhausted. 

Making up his mind, Eddie heads upstairs to grab some blankets and a spare pillow from the closet. He’s digging through the various sheets when he hears the first yell from downstairs. It’s not a word, not really, just a strangled scream and Eddie’s dropping the sheets, mindful of not waking Christopher as he races down the stairs. 

Buck’s thrashing on the couch when he skids into the living room and Eddie curses under his breath, isn’t sure he can touch Buck with all the flailing. There’s a low keening noise coming out of Buck’s throat, and he’s breathing too fast, having a fucking panic attack in his sleep.

“Buck,” Eddie snaps, as loud as he dares. 

Buck jerks, but doesn’t snap out of it. 

Eddie’s gonna have to take whatever happens next; he lurches forward, grabs for Buck’s hands to stop him flailing and only realizes it’s a mistake when Buck shoves back, kicking out with his legs and catching Eddie in the shin. “Ow, shit.”

“No,” Buck says, _wrecked_ and Eddie feels helpless. He doesn’t know how to help. “Christopher!”

Oh, christ. 

“Buck,” Eddie says again, louder, and manages to grip one of Buck’s wrists. “I need you to hear me, Buck.”

There’s a break in the flailing, but Buck’s still breathing too fast, clawing at the couch like he’s trying to dig his way into it. Or escape rushing water, Eddie thinks briefly, and his stomach swoops. 

Leaning in, Eddie grips both of Buck’s arms and hauls him off the couch. Buck takes a gasping breath and slumps against Eddie, causing Eddie to stumble until he can get his feet under him. 

“It’s okay,” Eddie says quietly. “You’re safe Buck, I promise.”

There’s still a hitch in Buck’s breathing, but he’s clutching at Eddie’s shoulders, and his chest isn’t heaving anymore. 

“You back with me?”

“Eddie?” Buck’s voice sounds far away and Eddie’s grip tightens. 

“I’m here,” Eddie assures him, hand coming up to the back of Buck’s head to hold him in place. “Take your time.”

Buck’s laugh is watery, but he takes back some of his own weight, hands still fisted in the back of Eddie’s shirt. “I was-”

Eddie waits, but Buck doesn’t say anything else. He’s breathing hotly against Eddie’s neck and it should be gross, but it just makes Eddie pathetically grateful that he’s feeling it at all. He’s almost lost Buck twice now and he’s tired of being so worried. 

“Christopher?” Buck asks eventually. 

Closing his eyes, Eddie turns his face into the side of Buck’s hair, nose brushing against his temple. He doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. This is, frankly, fucking weird because Buck’s his best friend, not Shannon, and Eddie isn’t going there not right now, but he finds comfort in the simple gesture anywhere. Thinking about it is a mental breakdown waiting to happen and he doesn’t have time for that. Instead, he just breathes in the smell of stale water, dirt, and something inherently _Buck_. “He’s asleep. Alive, I promise, upstairs.”

“I’m so sorry,” Buck whispers. 

Eddie pulls back immediately, his hands on Buck’s shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

Buck’s not in the room with Eddie. Not mentally. He’s looking out of the window, still leaning heavily against Eddie, but he’s talking quietly, face shifting between fear and guilt. “I lost him. I had him for so long and I-”

“Sit down,” Eddie says, deliberately cutting across Buck because he doesn’t wanna hear the guilt in Buck’s voice, how damned small he sounds when that’s the last thing he should be. Buck follows his directions, and Eddie’s not sure there’s ever been a time Buck’s been as compliant, but he sits, curling up against the arm of the couch and fisting his hands in his shirt. 

After a long, drawn silence when Eddie’s convinced himself Buck won’t say anything, he shifts, eyes flicking up to Eddie’s face, and then back to his lap. “There was a truck.”

“A fire truck?” 

“Yeah,” Buck says with a nod. “I got Christopher on it and then there were others. I couldn't, I wouldn’t have left him if I thought I would lose him, Eddie, I swear, and I got the people, helped them on the truck but I made sure he was safe, you have to know that.”

“I do,” Eddie assures him. His chest feels tight at Buck constantly trying to reassure him that he was looking out for Christopher. He’s not sure what to do with the knowledge that Buck cares so much about Christopher’s safety. 

“People kept - there were bodies and I didn’t want Christopher to have to see it,” Buck continues, keeps talking and Eddie knows he should be paying attention but there’s a ton of white noise that he can’t break through. Buck feeling guilty about not being able to help when he’s talking about protecting Eddie’s son with everything in him. Eddie’s hand lifts to Buck’s neck, startling Buck out of whatever he’s saying. There’s a flash of fear that makes Eddie feel vaguely nauseous. “Eddie-”

“Shut up,” Eddie says, angrier than he means to be, and it only causes Buck to flinch. 

“I can’t-”

“I said shut up.” Eddie gentles his tone, allows his thumb to brush against Buck’s jaw and he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing but it feels like the right thing. Freaking out can happen later. “Come on, we’re gonna get you clean.”

“I can shower by myself,” Buck says, looking confused. 

“Yeah, no,” Eddie says, manhandling Buck back off the couch. Buck goes willingly and isn’t really fighting Eddie as he takes him upstairs. He hesitates outside of Chris’ room though. 

“Can I?” Buck asks, gesturing at the door. His apprehension breaks a little of Eddie’s heart. 

“Of course,” Eddie says, confident that once Christopher’s asleep, short of a nightmare, he won’t wake up. 

Buck’s hand is shaking as he opens the door, and Eddie does them both the favour of not mentioning it. There’s a strange look on Buck’s face, one Eddie can’t parse, but he’s struck by the relief and the small smile that starts to cross Buck’s face as he sees Christopher safe in bed, breathing and alive. It reflects the way Eddie’s been feeling since he found Christopher, and that’s something he needs to think about later when his emotions aren’t already spilling over. 

“Come on,” Eddie says, still quiet, and shuts the door gently. “You okay now?”

“Sorry I can’t just,” Buck starts, and Eddie’s getting tired of all the apologizing. 

“Apologize once more and I’ll punch you,” he says good-naturedly, but he knows Buck can hear the undercurrent of honesty under his tone.

Buck opens his mouth but then shuts with an audible clack. His cheeks start to heat. “You gonna help me shower?”

“I’m gonna stay right here,” Eddie says, gesturing to the bathroom’s doorway. “You can barely stand up, but there’s a perfectly decent wall that can do as good a job as I can. No way I wanna see that pasty butt, Buckley.”

“Liar,” Buck says, with the first glimmer of humour Eddie’s seen on him since they left the camp. 

Eddie’s brain grinds to a halt because he doesn’t know how to take that, doesn’t know how _he_ wants to take that, and he settles for shoving Buck in the direction of the toilet seat while he starts the shower. “I’ll grab a towel. Wash and get clean.”

“Yes sir,” Buck slurs, with a mock salute, but it loses its bite when he yawns, brushing his hands over his face. 

Eddie does as he promised and stands in the doorway of the bathroom, trying to distract himself from thinking about Buck in the shower. His chest is tight with something that he doesn’t wanna analyze, and he tips his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and letting out a slow breath. His life is messed up right now, so much going on that he doesn’t know how to deal with it. As much as he says he’s over it, Shannon still looms over him like an unforgiving shadow, and there’s always Chris to think about it. He’s so distracted he doesn’t hear the water turn off, and only knows Buck’s done when the shower curtain rattles and he hears,

“Eddie? I’m kinda stuck.”

Eddie turns. Buck’s still in the shower, trying to wrap a towel around his waist, but he’s failing because his legs are threatening to buckle again and he’s got a white-knuckled grip against the bathtub. Eddie moves forward, catching hold of Buck’s shoulder. In his attempt to avoid looking at Buck naked, he sees the vicious scars on his leg, the wounds hidden by Buck’s clothes and his bed seems even further away. 

Together, they get Buck out of the shower and dried, and Eddie takes his time bandaging up some of the harsher wounds. 

“Better?” Eddie asks, and he’s glad for his time in the military for being able to shut down parts of his brain he can’t acknowledge. 

Buck’s face is twisted with pain, eyes hooded in exhaustion, but he nods. He's pulling on a clean shirt and actually looks relieved if exhausted. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’ve got pillows and blankets. You good on the couch or do you want the bed?”

“The couch,” Buck says immediately. “I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

Part of Eddie is grateful, but he needs Buck to be safe and comfortable too. “If you’re not, come get me, okay?”

He deliberately doesn’t think of similar words he said to Chris not an hour ago. 

“Eddie?” Buck’s question comes as they’re heading back downstairs. 

“Yeah?” Eddie leads the way into the living room and starts to set up Buck’s bed. He’s still not talking though, so Eddie turns, sees the expression on Buck’s face and abandons his task. “Hey, Buck.”

Buck’s eyes are wet, his breath coming in quick gasps. “I get it if you don’t, if you think Christopher isn’t safe.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I lost him,” Buck says, and his voice breaks. 

_Shit_. 

“No, buddy,” Eddie says, wrapping a hand around Buck’s neck. It’s not a hug, not really, and Eddie doesn’t know whether he wants it to be, he just needs Buck’s attention. “You saved him. That’s what Chris thinks, and that’s what I believe.”

“I failed him.”

“Welcome to the club,” Eddie says. “I'm his father and I’ve done it. Everyone does it, Buck, you can’t be right all the time. You’re gonna fail and it’s gonna hurt like hell, but what you do now, loving him enough to keep trying? That’s what counts.”

That’s the point Eddie’s been glazing over all night and now he’s thought it, he knows it’s true with every inch of him; Buck loves Christopher. 

He’ll do anything to make sure Christopher’s safe, almost died to make it true, and Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to say how grateful he is to Buck for it. There’s no anger, just peace that Eddie’s not alone in this, that someone else is fighting in his corner, permanently, and with as much love and protection as Eddie can give. 

“I trust you,” Eddie says, when it’s clear Buck isn’t gonna reply. “More than anybody else with Chris.”

“Eddie,” Buck says, like it’s the only word he remembers, and Eddie’s heart is pounding in his chest at the look on Buck’s face. 

What the fuck is happening?

It’s a moment, he thinks, something crackling in the air, but it ends when Buck dips his head, brushing a hand over his eyes. Eddie lets him, takes a step back because he needs the distance, needs to think clearly and he never can when Buck’s in the same room. 

“Thank you, Buck,” he says, when he’s sure he can keep his voice even. “You didn’t give up and I appreciate that more than you know.”

“I wouldn’t,” Buck starts, swallows, and then keeps going, a small smile on his face. “Christopher is - he deserves to be happy and I wanna try.”

“Good,” Eddie says decisively. “Now get some sleep, Buckley.”

Buck nods silently, and Eddie thinks they’re both too tired for their usual banter. He starts to head for the stairs, but Buck’s hand lands on his arm, warm fingers wrapping around his wrist. A little further down and they’d be holding hands. Eddie squashes that thought before it can take shape, and looks Buck in the eye. “Thanks for trusting me with him.”

Eddie lets out a slow breath, and it’s almost like the tension, the fear, and worry all seep out with it. “Always, Buck.”

It’s not a conclusion to anything, not even a start, but as Eddie climbs the stairs, taking the time to look in on Christopher one last time, he thinks maybe it’s a milestone he needs to mark. Everyone in the house is safe. They’re not okay, and Eddie thinks maybe it’ll take longer for them to feel comfortable around each other again, but he knows they can make it. 

If Buck and Christopher have shown anything during the tsunami, it’s that they’ll persevere in the face of danger and Eddie respects that, so grateful that one of them is his son and that the other is his best friend. If he ignores just how right it feels to reference the three of them together in his head, he can’t think about it, not right now. His life’s not close to okay enough to think anything about Buck except as a best friend. 

Still, as he lies in bed, face pressed into the pillow, and hands clenched into fists against the fear washing over him, part of him wishes Buck could hold _him_ , for Eddie to let everything go even for a second because it’s what he needs. 

He can’t have it, but part of him, somewhere deep and dark, desperately _wants_. 


End file.
